Repairing Wounded Souls
by Cloud Zen
Summary: CloTi - Cloud and Tifa start living together, only to have things start falling apart after a few months. Why does Cloud disappear and where does he go?
1. Chapter 1

"That idiot! I am just so tired of having to put up with his pathetic attitude!" Tifa grumbled once the door slammed behind her.

For the last few months Tifa and Cloud has experimented with living together. At first everything was wonderful: the days of laughter, the walks under the stars, the little surprises he left for her every morning before saddling up on Fenrir and riding off, casually glancing over as he walked out of the shower with a small towel wrapped around his waist, the nights of intertwined limbs and sheets. The first several weeks had been the happiest time she could recall. However, a few weeks ago something had changed in him.

Something about his demeanor had begun to shift to his old self, not his old childhood ways, but his depression and self-loathing from after their dear friend has paid the ultimate price to protect them all. Sure, he had kept them all moving, all together, but he was empty, driving only by the thought of vengeance, not the desire to live. The last few weeks he was becoming that empty self all over again, only this time, there was no driving force keeping him going, no focal point of his existence, he was simply existing.

Mulling over the argument she had just had with Cloud, Tifa muttered to herself, "Why doesn't he ever want to do anything anymore? Nothing I try works, not being cheerful, not little reminders, not even breaking out my lacy things." She sighed remembering the nights they had spent together and the wonders he had opened her eyes to. She blushed a little remembering how he was always so careful about her feelings regardless of what he was experiencing.

Her blissful reprieve gave way to the realization that her recent nights had been by herself, desperately hoping he would reach out the way he used to, the way that had brought her so much happiness. How could he expect her to live like this, denied of what he had once provided so happily and willingly?

Hearing Fenrir turn over and then roar, she knew he was headed off again for solitude. He did not work anymore but rather spent his days riding the plains around Edge and Kalm. A week ago she had followed him for a while wondering where he was going, what he was doing. She listened to him put Fenrir in gear and slowly pull away, regretting the argument that she admittedly had started. Nothing could be done to take back what she had said, she knew that. She also knew of nothing that at this moment could dissuade him from his current emotional track.

She didn't really care so much what it was and was willing to pay just about any price to make him happy again. Tifa just wanted her happy Cloud back. Maybe that was a bit naive, maybe what she really wanted was her own happiness back, something that she wasn't sure she could have without him being happy.

As the engine faded into the afternoon sun, she began to pick up the pieces of her fragile state, hoping to get herself together enough to open up her bar for the night. She wiped the forming tears from her eyes and took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm both her heart and her rage. A few moments later, glancing at the clock, she opened the door to their bedroom trying to only think of the things that had to be done before tonight.

Her final thought before turning down the stairs was "Something is going to have to give, and its going to have to be sooner rather than later."


	2. Chapter 2

He coasted to a stop out in the plains, wondering about the noise Fenrir was making. Cloud dismounted and grabbed the toolkit from his saddlebag before removing the body panel concealing the engine. Sighing as he discerned nothing was visibly wrong, he began checking various parts for wear and other damage. He had been riding far more than usual recently and had skimped a bit on the maintenance.

Working silently his thoughts began to drift to the chestnut haired woman he left with tears forming in her eyes. Nothing hurt him more than watching her being anything but happy. How he longed for the days from just a few weeks ago, where he would surprise her with little gifts hidden in the bar, little notes she would find while working, flowers waiting for her in random places, pick her up and carry her in to the bedroom without a moments notice.

How could he tell her though, tell her what was happening to him? Nearly a decade of harsh fighting and Shin-Ra experimentation had taken its toll on his body leaving his crystal blue eyes tired and pained. The scars on his body from their fights with Sephiroth he had concealed well from the others, but after Tifa began to explore his body during their lovemaking she found more and more, always a little worried but not understanding their true significance.

"Dammit to hell, the spark plug is shot again." Cloud leaned back groaning. This was the third one in as many months. He had been worried about the electrical system on Fenrir and now he knew something was definitely wrong, meaning he had a lot of work ahead of him and should head back soon. After piecing back together the last few components, he checked everything over once more before replacing his tools and mounting back up.

After starting the engine, he turned around and headed back towards Edge, dreading the awaiting confrontation with Tifa. She had brought him so much happiness the last few months. He knew it was cruel, distancing himself, but he had no answers for the questions she would have. No doctor in the world had answers as he had discovered over the course of the last month. His death was coming, and quickly, with no discernible cause.

Scars had been showing up on his body beginning about two months ago, scars that had no rational reason to exist. They were all faint, but their numbers were growing. All of them were painful, too, and as much as he craved his lover's touch, when anything touched them the pain became excruciatingly unbearable. He always tried his best to hide his winces and gasping when something brushed them and had managed well enough. Terrified of letting her knew just how severe it all was, he had hidden the coughing up of blood and the blood that would seep from his nose and eye sockets.

Something had to change. Whether he liked the result or not, something was going to change. Either he would die of these unexplained injuries, or he would get better and live for a while longer.

Cresting the top of the final hill before Edge, a wave of nausea came over him. Pulling over he quickly dismounted, getting a few feet from the road before his stomach relieved itself of contents. He opened his eyes to see large amounts of blood mixed with the remnants of his lunch.

"Hell, not again," he managed to squeak out before falling backwards unconscious.


	3. Chapter 3

Dusk had come and gone and her lover was nowhere to be found. Well into the night Tifa had worked behind the bar nervously looking at the entrance every time the little bell above it chimed from the door hitting it. She was dreading their next conversation after their fight earlier that day, but that did not mean she wished him gone. Putting on a fake smile for her customers she concealed the growing worry in her heart as hours past without any knowledge of her Cloud.

Last call had passed and the customers were gone for the night. With the chairs inverted on top of the tables, the floor swept, and the glasses cleaned, Tifa made her way upstairs to her small living room, a drink for herself in hand. He had never been this late before, no matter how bad the argument. Sitting on the couch with her legs pulled up under her, she began to replay the afternoon in her mind.

Finally confronting him about his behavior, Tifa had lashed out at Cloud. He was being distant, cold, and empty, just like when Aeris was murdered. Over the months Tifa came to understand his emptiness came not from the death of a love, but rather the failing to protect a cherished friend. Cloud had always been strong physically but fragile emotionally and when Tifa in her frustration jabbed at that weakness, he became silent. He let their eyes meet, only for a moment, before quietly walking down the stairs and out to the shed where Fenrir was kept. His eyes were not full of fury as she had expected but sad and pained. It was as if he was hoping for her to understand some unspoken pain of his.

Sipping from her warm mug she felt sadness creeping in. "What is so hard to say that he still has to hide it from me after everything we have shared over the past few months?" Tears had begun forming again when a familiar rumble filled the air. Fenrir had pulled up next to the bar where the sound of its engine died. Wiping away more tears, Tifa set her drink down and held herself dreading the imminent conversation. A squeak of metal hinges downstairs indicated Cloud had finally come home. The wooden stairs creaked under his weight as he neared.

Two heavy thuds followed by silence. He was behind her, watching from the top of the stairwell. Terrified to turn and face him, quietly she spoke, "You were gone longer than normal. Is everything okay?" Silence filled the air again. Heart racing, she waited for an answer. The passing seconds slowed, eternity consuming the void. Tifa closed her eyes hoping he would speak soon, that something would break this painful distance between them.

"We need to talk." His voice shattered the frozen time in the room. He sounded slightly dejected, as if he was about to break her and his hearts and leave against his own will. Slowly turning, she saw his head facing away. Feeling the blood pulsing in her temples, she dryly swallowed awaiting his judgement, watching him, a knot forming in her throat.

Cloud did not speak nor did he look up. Rather, he slowly removed his cloak, letting it fall to the floor. Tugging at the zipper he loosened his over shirt followed by pulling it and his undershirt over his head. As the cloth raised up, exposing his stomach, Tifa's eyes widened. The clothing passed over his chest. Her hands covered her mouth. The shirts fell to the ground, his head turning even further down and away. Tifa stood, walked towards him, still hiding her mouth with her hands. Stopping in front of his body, she stared, unable to comprehend what was before her.

Tears flowed from her eyes and she made no attempt to stop them. She simply reached out her hands, pulled his head to her chest and held him tightly and the blood from his weeping scars stained her clothes.


	4. Chapter 4

The warmth from the shower soaked into Cloud's body. His wounds stopped weeping and Tifa had washed the dried blood from his chest and back before he bathed. Silently she had wiped the blood away, rinsing the rag periodically. No questions were raised, no answers were given. He could only imagine what thoughts might be going through her head. He never intended to show her any weakness, but passing out earlier in the afternoon had decided that for him. Never knowing when he might loose consciousness, he had to be able to count on someone when the inevitable occurs. The words were not coming to him, but something needed to be said, the situation had to be explained.

A squeak came from the knob as he turned the water off. Cloud stood, letting it drip from his body while he tried to collect his thoughts. Toweling off the last vestiges, he stepped from the bathroom, looking for clean clothes as his old attire was thoroughly soaked with blood. Tifa was nowhere to be seen, knowledge that both comforted and disillusioned him. Looking at the bureau mirror, shame filled his mind as scars, swollen red, filled his vision.

With a clean shirt and pants on, Cloud entered the living room to find Tifa as she had been when he first returned, blood stained clothing still adorning her body. She turned her face to look at him. Expectant, she did not move from her seat. Motionless, he tempered his resolve to confide in his lover.

"I don't have any answers. I don't know what is causing the scars to appear. I don't know what any of it means. No doctor has answers, only more questions and tests." Pausing his monologue, Cloud walked toward Tifa, stopping to sit on the armrest of the sofa. "Aside from the scars, I pass out every now and then, which is what happened today out on the plains. I don't know what will happen, but it is getting worse and I thought showing you was the only way for you to understand."

Silence echoed in the room, neither body moving. Time stretched once more that evening as seconds became minutes. There was nothing that she could do for him, she was no doctor, no healer. He could think of nothing that she would benefit from in finding out the reality of his situation. The only conclusion he arrived at was it would strain the already fragile relationship between them.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Her strained voice broke the silence. Cloud closed his eyes, regretting the pain he was causing her, wishing he could experience it all in her stead. Tifa watched him shake his head, remaining motionless herself. The night closed in around them, swallowing the last remnants of happiness he felt. Nothing was left to shield her from the reality that was his unknown ailment, his confession had seen to that. Cloud was being consumed by the cold loneliness that had followed him in his days after Zack had died helping him escape.

Warmth thawed his frozen shell. Tifa's arms wrapped around his tired body, their gentle touch soothing. "Then let me do this," was all she said. Standing there, holding him, the harsh reality melted away into a blissful ignorance. Just as her touch had saved him years ago, it was saving him again.


	5. Chapter 5

The night passed in silence, Tifa held his tired body while one hand held Cloud's head against her breast. She sat, leaned against the headboard of their bed, her mind filled with the warmth his body provided. In her effort to spite the fear and anxiety which had consumed her hours prior, Tifa vowed to cherish the familiar scent of her lover that his fears had deprived her of for the past weeks. She smiled as the memories triggered by his fragrance filled her very being. Weeks ago she would have ravished his body with touches, kisses, nips, and so much more at the slightest whiff of the scent that enveloped her that moment. For now, she contended herself with closed eyes and her bottom lip bitten with such ferocity that she feared blood would be drawn. A sigh escaped her body as her loins began to burn with craving.

When the two entered the bedroom after their discussion earlier that evening Cloud had confessed to the wounds being tender. Tifa slowly brushed a finger over one in concern and in the process caught him wince via the corner of her eye. As much as she wanted him, which bordered on desperately needing, the pain that flashed through his face enlightened her to the fact that she could not have him that night, she could not indulge in the pleasures of the flesh and fulfill the wanton desires he had awoken within her. The night must be about him. She needed to comfort his soul, and sooth the raging apprehension he must have felt in his confession, not tame her own smoldering fires of lasciviousness.

Tifa released her bottomed lip and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her racing heart. She raised her head, relieved the strain on her neck, and began to slowly pet his hair. She failed to recall if he had ever curled up in her arms before, exposing all weaknesses, becoming completely defenseless. As she poured over her memory, attempting to remember a time when he had released the dominate role to her, completely exposed himself to her and her mercy, his body grew heavier against her.

Her eyes lowered to examine Cloud, revealing to her his slowed breathing and slightly ajar jaw. A smile returned to her lips, not of mischievous or lustful intent, but of awe and adoration. In the last months, Tifa had fallen asleep in his arms countless times, often after their lovemaking. She wondered if he had watched her the way she did him now, doing nothing more than basking in the glow of a cherished soul.

The smile released from her lips, her face hardened as she looked to the ceiling of their private haven. Determination coursed through her body with every beat of her heart. Her resolve set, she vowed to be the one to carry him through this agony. She would be the strength for him that he had been for all of them those many months ago. Enlightenment spread across her face.

Cloud had not been hiding the illness from her out of shame of the illness itself, of showing weakness. He had been hiding it because he was terrified of her thinking he failed her. He was supposed to be the strong one, forever protecting her happiness. "You silly fool," she whispered as she ran her slender fingers through his still damp blond locks. "How could I be happy if the one I cherish is suffering for my sake?" A knowing smile curled the edges of her lips. Her lips buried themselves in his hair, a kiss on his head left in their wake. "Tomorrow you are getting the lecture of a lifetime." She pulled him closer inhaling his scent. "After everything you taught me, you are not allowed to be anywhere but here." Her eyelids fell, concealing her scarlet irises, as dreams overtook her.

* * *

Author's Note: Ten days under eighteen months later, I continue this story. To those that have reviewed this story, thank you. It was actually reading through those reviews again that inspired me to continue working on this piece after my original inspiration faded as opposed to starting a new work as had been my original plan. Also, to a new friend of mine whose works reminded me about the depth of the psyche of the condition that is human and that some things need to be expressed via whatever outlet, thank you again.


	6. Chapter 6

Warmth permeated the shadows of the bedroom. Sunlight snuck past the unfurled curtains to illuminate the gentle curves of a sleeping female face bearing a smile. Dawn arrived to greet both her and the one sheltered in her arms, the one who was and she hoped forever would be her shield, her reverie, her knight, her Cloud. His revelations the previous evening forcibly changed their dynamic. He needed the protection, the support.

Crystal blue eyes greeted the intensifying light. For the last month, the idea of a restful night remained unfulfilled. However, the preceding hours had soothed his weary soul, his tired mind, his pained heart. He groaned softly as his stiff body began to pull away from Tifa, who elicited a whimper as the warm mass was replaced with cooler air. His eyes wandered over her body, no longer dressed with bloodied clothing. She had slid down the bed, no longer resting against the headboard he had hand-tooled as a present two months prior.

Smiling in remembrance of the comfort her body represented, Cloud slipped off the bed. He stretched his arms, neck, and torso in attempt to relieve the tense condition of his muscles. As content as he had been in her arms, the awkward angles required for their position left something to be desired after several hours. The bureau contained several spare shirts, at the insistence of Tifa due to his limited wardrobe. A random drawing allowed him to clothe him upper half as he turned back to the bed.

His departure had left her exposed. A step toward the bed allowed him to drape the strewn duvet over his confidant. With a smile returned to her face due to the soft weight, Cloud stepped softly from the bedroom.

The kitchen awaited him; a need for sustenance drove his actions. His appetite had lessened over the last few weeks but he was still a human that needed food to survive. He debated as to whether or not he should brew a pot of coffee when the thought of the substance in his stomach made him nauseous. Quickly finding a chair, he sat as the nausea washed over him and his vision blurred. With eyes clamped shut, he focused on calming himself, first focusing on his stomach, then his mind.

Thoughts of the young woman with whom he shared a bed always soothed his mind in the past, but this morning seemed to have a weakened effect. Something was eating away at him, his body, his consciousness, his very being. Knowing he would not be able to keep food down, Cloud opted for a glass of water, hoping it would appease his tumultuous stomach.

After confessing his condition to Tifa, seeing the mixed expressions on her face and in her eyes, Cloud swore to redouble his efforts to find the cause, and the more important solution, to his condition. There was one place he could still go, one place that might have answers. He had not returned there for some time, but perhaps enough had passed that the visit would be met with open arms. Rather, the arms would always have been open, maybe now he finally had the courage to walk into them.

Briefly returning to the bedroom, he collected what few bloodless clothes that remained, just enough for a single ensemble, and found his way to Fenrir outside. The engine turned over. Cloud shifted the motorcycle into gear, released the clutch and slowly accelerated towards his destination. He must live on; he must find a way to survive. He had long ago admitted being afraid to die, but now he was more afraid of leaving Tifa alone, and even more so of being without Tifa himself. Rounding a turn, he eyed his goal: the ruins of Midgar.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: I know the updates for this story are shorter than most would like and very slow in coming, but, for me, this story is particularly difficult to write. It is very counter to my natural writing style (this was a challenge I set up for myself). Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy writing this story and I am very appreciative to all those who review, subscribe to, or favorite this work. If anyone has any questions or comments regarding this work, please let me know. Again, I appreciate them and I will always respond. I will have more free time in the coming weeks so hopefully it will not be too long before the next update.

With all sincerity,  
Cloud Zen

* * *

Dreams are fickle things, she has long ago discovered. The slightest disturbance in the corporeal realm could turn the sweetest dreams into nightmares. Tifa had fallen asleep with her beloved in her arms, bathed in his aroma, his weight grounding her dreams to him. Yet, during the blissful reprieve from reality, a shift had occurred. The comfort that had once filled her sleeping mind became replaced by fear - a fear of abandonment.

She had been filled with the images of her and her treasured one when he faded from the illusion, slipping through her fingers. The vision of them making sweet, gentle love vanished, substituted with loneliness, leaving her curled about her naked self in a sea of darkness, a cold, desolate place devoid of light and feeling. Her mind cried out for her cherished one, begging to be found or to find. As she attempted to swim through the seemingly infinite abyss, seeking him out, Tifa felt tears coming to her eyes.

As quickly as the desolation had set itself upon her, it faded. Warmth and love flowed through every pore of her consciousness. Wrapped in bliss again, her ideal vision of beauty, Cloud, returned to her reverie. She felt the weight of his emotions permeating her existence. The anxiety from moments prior was washed from her soul.

The dream continued with the two intertwined to the point that they could be mistaken for a single entity. After growing comfortable, noise disrupted the beautiful illusion again, this time freeing her from sleep's grasp. Tifa's eyelids slowly parted, fighting to shield her pupils against the invading light of the morning sun. Her chest rose as she breathed deep the still cool morning air. A contented sigh escaped her as she exhaled, reaching around for her companion.

Feeling only sheets she forced her eyes open, pushing herself more upright. As focus came to her sight, she registered the sound which had awoke her: Fenrir. The engine had a distinct sound she was sensitive to, in part because of her tendency to anxiously await Cloud's return every night. The engine sounded as if to die, then slowly rumbled back to life, growing louder but fading in the distance.

Slipping from the bed, she rushed to the window, pulling it open to better hear the fading engine. With the barrier removed, Tifa could hear the engine with more clarity and was able to pair it with a direction. She furrowed her forehead, uncomfortable with any reason as to why he would be headed in that direction.

"Midgar?" The name of the ruined city escaped her lips. "Are you visiting her again?" Tifa stared at the remains of the central tower, her mind struggled to process the stream of thoughts running through it. Stepping away from the window, her gaze remained on the wreckage as her body turned back to the room. As her vision came around, her eyes caught the duvet, crumpled, yet actually on the bed.

Attempting to understand Cloud's departure faded from her thoughts as the realization of why the covering was on the bed and the fact that she had been under it dawned on her. It was a small gesture, but he was warming up again. A smile crept across her face. She stepped towards the bedroom door, running her hand along the bed, tracing the thick spread she had awoken underneath. When she reached the bedroom door, she paused.

Resting her hand on the doorframe, she turned her head back to the window. Tifa could no longer hear the engine carrying her blue-eyed warrior towards the former metropolis. The smile faded from her lips.

She had more answers now, but, unfortunately, that left her wanting more of him. "Come home soon." Her head turned back and she stepped through the threshold into the remainder of the house.


	8. Chapter 8

Cool air whipped through his blond locks as Fenrir's engine roared, carrying Cloud ever closer to his destination. He felt an urge to rush, to speed along as fast as his mechanical companion could move, but, after the previous night's discussion, he decided caution was the more appropriate behavior. Tifa would want him better, but dying in the process could only be construed as the result of a decision of a fool. For many years he had believed fear to be a hindrance, yet the current moment revealed it to be a check against unnecessary reckless actions that might prevent his return to a particular young woman.

Dark hair and brown eyes with a red hue filled his mind while he rounded a pile of debris. While yearning for the soft curves and gentle warmth left behind that morning, his destination came into view. Downshifting, Cloud slowed his approach. The drive over had been deemed unquestionably the correct decision. Eying the door and the broken stained glass windows caused uncertainty to rise. Downshifting yet again, he shook his head as a symbolic gesture of attempting to remove that uncertainty.

Engaging the clutch allowed the warrior to coast the remaining distance. As he crept up, the hard dirt cracking beneath the weight of the machine, Cloud held his breath. The earth released a crunch as he supported his body and machine by placing a foot on the ground. Swinging his leg over Fenrir, Cloud steadied the machine before looking back up at the building before him. Finally releasing his breath and inhaling once again, the floral aroma flooded his senses.

Only a few months ago had he come to peace with her death. He would most likely never forgive himself for allowing what happened to occur, but had decided the best way to cherish her memory would be to move forward with his life and remember Aerith for who she was, not how she died. That realization had given him peace enough that he could move on and pursue happiness with Tifa, resulting in his ultimately successful romantic bids.

A creak from the hinges filled the old church as he opened the heavy, solid wood door. A shaky breath escaped his body as Cloud stepped forth into aisle. Memories began filled his thoughts, a slow trickle at first, increasing until the memories were akin to flood waters.

He remembered seeing Aerith when he first awoke after crashing through the roof, talking in the old playground, walking across the plains, sleeping under the stars, countless conversations, and the peaceful look on her face even after being run through. She had become a dear friend by the time he supposedly failed her and from time to time he wondered if he still felt her presence.

Cloud sat on the front pew, looking through the hole his body created when he fell from the old reactor. Silence crept over the world, the wind stopped, the insects hushed, even time appeared to stall in its flow. His body grew heavy, his heart slowed, his breathing shallowed, Sleep began to overtake his consciousness. His body relaxed and his eyelids fell.

Slowly he opened his eyes. Blinded by light, Cloud shielded his face with his arms. The intensity of the light faded, and he looked into the white infinity that surrounded him. Turning his head, straining his eyes, he looked for anything to focus on. Without anything to hold his gaze, he found nothing but a headache. Cloud closed his eyes again, beginning to process his situation.

Sleep had consumed him while sitting in her church. It was strange, he had not felt tired, nor had he felt ill which usually preceded his losing awareness. The last thing he remembered was the scent of her flowers, her flowers which he currently still smelled. A smile broke out on his face as the recognition took hold.

Aerith had once said words in passing to him, words he did not understand at the time. Now their meaning was perfectly understood. "So I finally get to meet you." His eyes opened to immediately focus on a brunette with a pink dress.

* * *

Author's Note: Several people have been asking me about the chronological placement of this story in the Final Fantasy VII universe. As such I will explain it to everyone now. There is no definite point at which this story occurs other than after the end of the game. I suppose, if you insist it fit into the canon, it is best to assume it is either after Advent Children, but I am leaving the story temporally ambiguous. There will be no mention of Marlene, Denzel, Geostigmata, Omega Weapon, Deepground, or any of the other post-game temporal bookmarks. The one assumption this story makes is that Cloud dates Aerith during the events at the Gold Saucer. I am an adamant proponent of the Cloud and Tifa pairing but if you follow the most natural choices in the game, Cloud should date Aerith and I recognize this fact.

I do not normally fish for reviews, but in the last three chapters I have three reviews, none of which of a critical nature. I can look at hit counts and the like but there is no comparison for a few words from someone who had read. What I am actually getting at, in a very circuitous manner, is that I am looking for a new prompt to work from. I would prefer suggestions of either a Cloud and Tifa pairing or of a Squall and Rinoa pairing, as those are the two I feel most comfortable with. Well, either that or enough people to express an interest in my original story to continue working on it. This story was a personal challenge, but now I feel like I need an external one, and I would rather be provided one by those who have read anything written by me (limited though that quantity is) than search the internet for challenge prompts and the like. If you have an idea or want to express a desire for me to work on my other story, please send me a private message with that expressed. This work will not replace my working on Repairing Wounded Souls. It will be in addition to it as I will work both simulaneously.

With all sincerity,  
Cloud Zen


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